


Heart and Soul

by liketolaugh



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda and Marie have just moved into their first house, and they have... a couple of unexpected roommates. Luckily, they're very friendly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Thank you for your help,” Miranda said earnestly, giving Tiedoll a grateful smile with her hands pressed together. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tiedoll laughed, waving his hands dismissively. “You’re very welcome, my dear. I assure you, it’s an endless weight off my shoulders to know that Marie won’t be alone even if he’s not in my home anymore.”

Marie emerged from the house and gave Tiedoll a smile of his own. “Kanda really did give you a scare, didn’t he?” he asked, amused.

“That boy will be the death of me,” Tiedoll said firmly, and then, “I’m still going to call you every night. Do answer, please.”

Miranda giggled softly, knowing that Kanda had never answered, and promised, “We will.”

“Remember not to delay unpacking too terribly long. Miranda, you don’t start work for another month, but you, Marie, you only have a week before you’ll have to start going. Don’t forget to set your alarm, you don’t want to be late on your first day-”

“Dad,” Marie interrupted, an amused smile on his face. “We’ll be fine.”

Tiedoll sighed. “Yes, yes.” He smiled ruefully. “I suppose I’ll allow you to settle in now. Call me if you need anything. Remember, I’m just fifteen minutes away.”

“We will,” Marie assured him, politely keeping the laughter out of his voice.

It took another ten minutes of dithering, but Tiedoll eventually left, and Marie chuckled, while Miranda cast him a smile, reaching out to twine her hand with his.

“Your father really is very kind,” she commented, a hint of laughter leaking into her voice. Tiedoll had warmed up to her very quickly after she’d begun dating Marie, something that couldn’t have been said for Kanda or Daisya, and she’d responded to his kindness and encouragement almost as well as she had Marie’s.

“He worries,” Marie said fondly, and when she looked up at him, he was smiling at her. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She lost her breath in the span of a short moment, staring at him.

Her heart pounded, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. She’d lived on her own, in an apartment, for a while, but she hadn’t lived _with_ anyone before. What if she was too messy, or too loud, or what if Marie got tired of her and asked her to leave-

“Miranda?” Marie asked, smile melting to concern.

Miranda took a deep breath, blew it out, and smiled at Marie. “I’m ready,” she promised, to herself as much as to Marie.

Marie believed in her, so she could believe in herself. She _could._

Marie smiled warmly and released her hand. “Let’s go do as we said and start unpacking.”

“Ooh, that’ll take a while,” Miranda worried, and Marie reached out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, drawing her attention back to him.

“No hurry,” Marie said simply, and opened the door. She relaxed, half-smiled again, and went after him.

Miranda looked around curiously – the house was bare of the furniture that had been in when they last looked, and filled with boxes now instead – and her eyes landed on something in the middle of the room. She smiled. “Oh, you opened the kitchen box! Maybe we can put something together for lunch.”

“Hm?” Marie frowned, stepping forward cautiously. “I didn’t open any boxes.”

Miranda started slightly. “Oh…” She shrugged helplessly. “Perhaps Tiedoll did.”

“Perhaps,” Marie agreed, smiling at her. “We’ll have to thank him.”

* * *

It took two weeks to unpack completely, and a little longer for Marie to learn his way around enough to stop moving so cautiously.

It was fun, if Marie was honest with himself. Certainly, hunting down the boxes with the things they needed tended to be tedious, and it was astonishing how many things you needed on a day-to-day basis. Miranda, he knew, had a running list of things they would need to buy, mostly groceries.

But it was a moment of quiet, of privacy. Hours that Marie was happy to spend talking with Miranda, filling the silence with the sound of a voice he could listen to all day. And she made the best surprised noises when she found something she’d forgotten they’d packed.

Miranda, too, was more relaxed here, when it was just the two of them. She talked a little longer, fretted a little less, and was simply more comfortable. Sometimes the two of them were just quiet, unpacking silently or taking a break, and sometimes, once he’d unpacked his guitar, Marie played for the two of them, filling the quiet of the house.

It was toward the end of the unpacking period, while the two of them were taking a quiet break, Miranda leaning against Marie, breathing deep and even, that a knock came at the door.

“Oh!” Miranda yelped and sat up quickly, half-scrambling to her feet before she fell over herself with a yelp and collapsed onto the ground. “Ah, um- C-c-coming!” she called out, distress filling her voice as she pushed herself up.

Before she could finish, Marie reached out, finding her knee, and she stilled.

“I’ll get it,” Marie assured her gently, smiling fondly, and she blew out a breath, still anxious.

“Ah- okay.” Deep breath. Marie gave her a moment, knowing she always had trouble gathering herself when she felt she’d messed up. “D-do you think it’s a neighbor?”

“Most likely,” Marie confirmed, standing up and carefully picking his way across the room, still half-filled with boxes and furniture he hadn’t memorized the exact positioning of yet. Finally, he reached the door, opened it, and smiled. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” returned a voice he didn’t recognize – a girl in her teens, he guessed. “My name is Lenalee; my brother and I live across the street. I thought I should give you some time to settle in, but I wanted to greet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lenalee,” Marie greeted with a small smile, holding out his hand. “I’m Noise Marie; my girlfriend, Miranda, and I moved in together.”

“Welcome,” Lenalee replied, shaking it, and then, “Ah… Pardon me, but…”

“Am I blind?” Marie finished for her.

“I’m sorry, was that rude?” Lenalee asked, clearly embarrassed.

“No, don’t worry,” Marie assured her, smiling again. “What gave it away?”

“I have some cookies for you,” Lenalee explained, a trace of embarrassment still in her voice, though it was melting away. “As a housewarming gift.”

“Oh!” Marie smiled and held out his hand, and wrapped his fingers around the plate pressed into it. “Thank you. That’s quite kind of you.”

“It’s nothing,” Lenalee assured him. “Is Miranda busy?”

Marie heard footsteps approaching, the light, half-hesitant gait of Miranda, and stepped aside slightly to allow her room.

“No, no, I’m here!” Miranda insisted. “H-hello. I- I’m Miranda.”

“Welcome,” Lenalee repeated with just as much warmth. “Are you both settling in alright?”

“We’re almost done unpacking,” Marie said, leaning slightly against the wall.

“It’s a very lovely neighborhood!” Miranda added earnestly. “Y-you s-said you live across the street, d-didn’t you?”

“I did,” Lenalee agreed, and Marie heard her shift, her shoes scraping against the pavement, possibly to point. “That house there.”

“Oh!” Miranda exclaimed. “That’s, ah…”

“Brother has some odd hobbies,” Lenalee said ruefully, and Miranda explained to Marie,

“There appears to be some kind of, um, robot, I think, in the garage. It’s rather-”

“It’s weird,” Lenalee interrupted, sounding amused. “You can say it. I don’t mind and Brother will pout, but he doesn’t mind either.” Giggle. “Believe me, he knows.”

Miranda laughed a little. “Have you lived here long?” she asked.

“Since I was six,” Lenalee confirmed. “This house actually goes through more residents than all of the other houses combined. I’m not sure why.”

Miranda made a worried noise, and Marie put  hand on her shoulder, smiling at Lenalee. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it,” he said firmly.

“Of course!” Lenalee said quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“Of course not,” Marie agreed, but he was thinking anyway.

Miranda hadn’t lost anything since they’d come here. Actually, anything they were looking for seemed to appear within moments of beginning to search for it.

But that was nothing, surely.

* * *

There was something about this house.

It wasn’t unsettling, exactly- Well, okay, it was a little unsettling. Marie, she was sure, had noticed this as well, attentive as he always was.

Things moved around, when she wasn’t looking. They weren’t where she’d left them (she usually remembered once she’d found them) but instead where she looked, and oftentimes she was sure they hadn’t been there until she turned around. And, if she stayed up and listened to the quiet of the night, sometimes-

She could hear voices. Quiet, too quiet to hear. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, and the one time she’d gotten up to look, there had been nothing there, but they were definitely there. She was sure.

For instance, now she needed groceries, but she couldn’t find her keys, which she had been _so sure_ had been in her purse. She glanced distractedly at the counter, saw it clear of everything but a stack of mail and a jar of peanut butter she hadn’t yet put away, and looked away against, scanning anxiously for anywhere she could have left them.

And she turned back around, glancing at the counter again, and was only half-surprised to see the keys, laying innocently in place as if they’d been there all along.

Even more startling, though, was the grocery list – oh no, she’d almost forgotten the grocery list! – and an uncapped pen, with another entry scribbled in unfamiliar, messy handwriting.

_Call Tydol_

She stared at it for a moment, startled.

They’d lost a box along the way, the one with most of Marie’s music CDs, and he’d asked her to call Tiedoll about it, earlier. Now would be the perfect time, when she could pick it up on the way back if needed.

“Th-that’s not h-how you spell his name,” Miranda said at last, breathless. She picked up the pen, scratched out ‘Tydol’, and rewrote it the correct way.

She wondered if she’d imagined the breathy ‘oops’ in her ear.

She didn’t think so.

“Th-thank you,” she added on a whim, and definitely didn’t imagine the _‘you’re welcome’_ that followed.

* * *

“Noise?” Miranda started tentatively, unable to stop thinking about what had happened.

“Hm?” Marie looked up from his guitar, slowing to a stop. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you think…” Miranda took a deep breath, rubbed a hand over her arm anxiously, and then blurted out all at once, “Doyouthinkourhouseishaunted?”

Marie blinked. “Ah…”

Miranda flushed, but forged on, confident that Marie would actually consider her words. “D-do you think our… our house is h-haunted?” Marie didn’t answer, frowning slightly, and Miranda flinched. “I-I mean! With the things moving, a-and the voices at night, and the note on the notepad-”

“Miranda,” Marie interrupted, leaning forward slightly, and Miranda stopped talking, hyperventilating a little. Marie smiled reassuringly, and it was… nice, that just his hand on hers calmed her a little. “I… actually do. Dad might say that it’s because we’re in a new house, but…”

“It isn’t normal,” Miranda finished in a whisper, and Marie nodded.

For a moment, both of them were silent, wondering about that, and then Miranda asked tentatively,

“What should we…?” She trailed off, biting her lip.

Marie shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, expression a little troubled. “Certainly they don’t seem unfriendly, but it doesn’t feel right to ignore them, either.”

Miranda bit her cheek against a nervous smile. “Yes, it feels kind of rude.”

Marie nodded, and there was a soft laugh in the air that belonged to neither of them. Miranda jumped, and Marie looked up sharply, and she knew he’d heard it, too.

Then, as Miranda watched, a notepad lifted itself from where it was kept under the table, flipped to a blank page, and was swiftly followed by a pen – moving as if handed from one person to another, Miranda noted faintly – which was then pressed to the paper. A note was drawn out, slow and careful, and then the pen fell to the table.

A moment later, the notepad floated to her – again passed as if from one hand to another - and, numbly, she took it and read what it said.

_My name is Link. Allen is with ~~me~~ us._

Softly, Miranda whispered, “There’s two of them.”

Marie started. “Really? How…?”

“They wrote a note,” Miranda explained, voice breathless, staring down at the innocuous notepad in her hands. “One of them is named Allen, and one of them is named Link.”

Marie stared for a moment, and then he cleared his throat, though the slightly disconcerted look stayed on his face.

“Hello, Allen, Link,” Marie said politely, sightless gaze still on Miranda.

“Hi,” a voice whispered back, and Miranda tried not to jump too badly, though her hand did fly to her mouth to muffle a squeak.

Oh God. They really did have a couple of roommates.

…Oh no! And she hadn’t even said hello for more than two entire weeks!


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t so much that they had to get used to the presence of ghosts in their house – it was more that they had to get used to the _idea_ of them, because even once Marie and Miranda knew that they were there, they didn’t make their presence obvious, at least not at first.

Miranda still made a point to say hello every time she entered and goodbye every time she left, and Marie did his best to do the same.

When they did make their presence known, though, they were a little less subtle about it than before.

Marie passed his hand over the desk where Miranda thought she’d left her folder and shook his head with a wry smile. Miranda was usually good about remembering to glance over to her desk before she left, but when she’d absently taken it anywhere else-

Marie started at a slight touch at his hand, icy-cold and barely noticeable. It removed itself a moment later, and for just a moment, Marie’s nose caught the scent of blood in the air, before that, too, disappeared. He hesitated for a long moment, deliberating, and then said aloud,

“Miranda left her lesson plans behind. I don’t suppose…?”

There was a beat of silence, and then the folder was pressed into his hand, and Marie started a little, surprised despite himself.

“That was quick,” he remarked, and then, “Thank you.”

Marie didn’t really expect a response, so when he got one, it made him jump almost more than the touch had.

 _“Allen loses things often,”_ the voice explained, a breath of fondness to the words, and Marie mentally earmarked it as Link, by process of elimination. Link had a German accent, which the whispers before hadn’t been coherent enough to tell him. _“I’m used to it.”_

Marie blinked, and then chuckled, tucking the folder under his arm. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 _“I’m not that bad.”_ Another voice, evidently Allen, joined the conversation. Allen, Marie learned, had a British accent. _“Or at least, I’ve gotten better.”_

 _“Yes, now you can only lose things in one building. I assure you it’s very helpful when helping you locate them.”_ Link’s voice couldn’t have been dryer if it had been on the surface of the sun.

 _“Hey!”_ Allen protested, but he was laughing, a sound that was as eerie as it was amused, in the way that it came from everywhere at once rather than any one defined location.

Still, Marie laughed aloud, and for a moment, despite the unnatural quiet of their voices, wondered why he’d ever been concerned at all. Ghosts they may be, but ghosts were alive once, too.

“It can be difficult for me to find things sometimes,” he told Link, warmth lingering in his voice. “So I would appreciate the help.”

 _“Of course, anytime,”_ Link assured him.

“I need to get this to Miranda,” Marie added, taking his cane from where he kept it on a table by the door. “But, it was nice to talk to you.” A moment of hesitation, and then he added confidently, “You don’t need to be shy.”

There was a silence that was somehow startled, and then Allen said, sounding sincere,

_“Thank you.”_

Marie smiled, and then he was out the door. Miranda was probably fretting herself into a fit, after all, so the sooner he got her folder to her, the better.

* * *

“Ieee!”

Miranda gave the flour scattered across the floor a terrified look, and then covered her face with her hands, trying to force back the tears that wanted to escape. Oh no, she’d dropped the flour and now it was _everywhere_ and she’d have to go get more now and she’d probably crash the car because she was _so clumsy-_

_“Miranda?”_

Miranda yelped and uncovered her face and whirled on the voice, eyes wide, but of course, there was nothing and no one there. She swallowed and tried to slow her breathing like Noise had taught her, eyes flickering around the kitchen.

“S-sorry!” she yelped, clutching her hands to her chest. “I-I didn’t mean to- I mean, I won’t-”

 _“Easy,”_ the boyish voice soothed, and she felt a hint of an icy touch at her shoulder that she had to fight not to flinch from. _“It’s fine, you’re fine. What’s wrong?”_

Miranda glanced down at the spilt flour and felt her throat close up, tears threatening to spill.

_“That’s nothing, just a bit of a mess. Nothing that can’t be fixed, right, Link?”_

Link didn’t reply aloud, but the bag of flour righted itself and then floated up to the counter, now partially empty. A few moments later, the closet just outside the kitchen opened and the broom tumbled onto the floor.

 _“You were making cookies, right?”_ Allen continued, hushed and encouraging. _“For Noise.”_

She nodded, swallowing. “I’ll burn them, though,” she said miserably. “I _always_ burn them. And mix up the sugar and the s-salt, and forget th-things, and…” She swallowed. “Oh, I can’t do this, I can’t.”

 _“Link can help!”_ Allen said brightly. _“He always liked to bake; he’s very good at it.”_

Miranda shook her head frantically, eyes widening and breathing speeding up again. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you like that, I’ll just, I’ll just-” The words wouldn’t come out as she wanted them to.

_“It’s no trouble.”_

Miranda started a little at the German accent of the voice; Noise had mentioned that Link had one, of course, but- She took a deep breath and let it out.

She’d wanted to make cookies for Noise, she reminded herself. Noise probably wouldn’t mind even if they were a little bit burned, and he definitely wouldn’t yell at her. And he was always encouraging her to make friends.

Making friends with the ghosts at their house seemed like as good an idea as any. She smiled tentatively.

“Th-thank you,” she offered, breath hitching a little even as it slowed.

 _“No trouble,”_ Link repeated, soft but certain. _“What kind?”_

“N-Noise likes oatmeal cookies,” she answered, with slightly more confidence. “S-so…”

There was a hum of acknowledgement, and she watched as Link nudged briefly through the ingredients, each one shifting minutely, moved by an invisible force.

 _“I’ll get out of your hair, then,”_ Allen said, with a light tone of amusement and warmth. _“Good luck!”_

Miranda offered a brave smile in his direction, still feeling a bit twitchy but much better than before. “Th-thank you!”

* * *

No matter how many times he handled it, Marie’s heart still pounded in his chest every time he rolled the little ring between his fingers.

Krory had helped him with it, actually. Silver and diamond, with a delicate, woven pattern studded with tiny gems, each one a bump under his fingertips. The gem on top was larger, but not huge – understated, like Miranda herself. She would like it. Probably. Hopefully.

He shook himself, exhaling softly with a small smile. Of course she would. She was the sweetest thing this side of the clouds; he wasn’t sure there was anything she _didn’t_ like.

An engagement ring. He’d bought it two months ago, but the proposal – that was proving to be harder. There were so many ways he could do this, and while he was certain Miranda would be happy with any one of them, he wanted it to be nothing less than perfect.

Marie didn’t have a lot of time to just think about it, where and when and how he could propose, but whenever he did, he got the ring out from the depths of his shirt drawer and fidgeted with it.

He chuckled quietly. At this rate, it would be worn before Miranda ever set eyes on it.

_“Is that for Miranda?”_

Marie started, lifting his head and straightening up. After a surprised moment, he asked, “Link?” (He was good at learning voices, but it was hard to memorize a voice he heard for a few minutes at most every few weeks.)

 _“Yes,”_ Link affirmed, sounding quite close. Marie stilled uncertainly, but relaxed as Link continued, _“Are you planning to propose, Marie?”_

“I am,” Marie confirmed, with a small, fond smile. “There… really isn’t anything I’d love more.”

 _“I can tell.”_ Link’s voice was colored with warmth. _“It’s easy to see how much you care for each other.”_ He chuckled. _“Allen’s been wondering when you’ll propose almost since you arrived.”_

“I’m told we’re sickening,” Marie admitted, letting amusement leak into his voice. “I prefer the term ‘charming’, myself.”

Link laughed quietly. Marie considered that this was the most he’d ever heard Link speak without Allen getting involved; normally the other spirit was much more talkative, and Link was more reserved. Then he thought about it a little more, and a long-growing suspicion came back.

“Link, if I may ask… How long ago did you and Allen die?”

There was a brief, startled silence, and Marie let concern crease his expression. He and Miranda hadn’t spoken to the two ghosts in their home much, but they had enough to get to know them at least a little. And they were both very kind people – Marie was certain of that much.

 _“Around a hundred years ago,”_ Link said at last, even softer than normal and full of regret. _“We lived together, here. It looked different, of course; it’s been refurnished many times and remodeled a few.”_ Pause. _“Both of us were murdered in the same night. Allen’s uncle was… something of a psychopath, as it turned out.”_ Another pause, longer this time, and then, as if forcibly drawing himself away from dark thoughts, Link added, _“We were together, if that was what you were wondering. I would have married him if I could have.”_

There was a solemn silence, for a few minutes, and then Marie smiled, kind and gentle.

“Then you must have thought about it a lot,” he said quietly. “Would you like to discuss ideas for a while? I can’t begin to sort through them all.”

 _“Ideas for Miranda?”_ Link mused. Suspecting it was a rhetorical question, Marie waited a moment, and sure enough, Link continued, warm and pleased, _“I don’t see why not, if you don’t mind.”_

Marie smiled. “Of course not.” With a playful smile, he patted the bed beside him, and heard Link chuckle before cold air blew across him, just for a moment, and then they were both settled and speaking.

* * *

The next day, Miranda dozed against Noise, half-listening to the movie playing on the television. She could feel Noise’s fingers tangled in her hair to cradle her head, motionless but soothing nonetheless.

Despite knowing they weren’t really alone in their home, Miranda still felt at ease when she and Noise were together – safe and comfortable, as if Noise’ faith in her was a tangible thing. Uncertainties still scurried under the surface, but for a while, they were quiet.

Finally, long after the movie had gone silent, she felt Noise’s fingers start to tug lightly through her hair, rousing her from her doze. She stirred and murmured against his arm, “Noise?”

“We should go to bed,” he said quietly, voice gentle and warm. He nudged her. “Come on.”

She blinked her eyes sleepily, tilting her head back, and smiled tiredly. “Oh. Oh, you’re right, it’s late.” She glanced at the television, now off. “Oh dear, how late is it?”

“Late enough,” Noise chuckled, helping her up and catching her as she stumbled. “Careful now.”

She giggled nervously, a flush of embarrassment rising to her cheeks.

“G-goodnight, Allen. Goodnight, Link,” she called, keeping her hand in Noise’s.

 _“Goodnight,”_ Allen replied, cheerful and easy.

She saw a flicker in the corner of her eye and turned toward it, startled. A moment later, she clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a cry.

Sitting on the floor by the arm of the couch, legs crossed, a semitransparent man with long blond hair gave her a small smile, raised his hand in a wave, and then disappeared again. Her eyes, wide with surprise, stayed fixed on the spot where he’d been.

Not only had she never seen him before, but he’d had a large, dark red spot in the middle of his chest, unmistakably a bloodsoaked wound.

“Miranda?” Noise frowned, hand tightening slightly around hers. He could probably hear her heartbeat speed up. “Is something wrong?”

She squeezed his hand back in reassurance and parted her fingers to whisper, “Allen? Was that you?” Allen had always been the more outgoing of the two spirits, so-

 _“No, it was me,”_ Link clarified, sounding rueful and amused.

“…Does that hurt?” she whispered, clenching her fingers shut again, worry tugging at her chest.

There was an almost startled silence, and then, quietly, Link answered, _“Not at all.”_ And then, _“Goodnight, Miranda, Marie.”_

 _“Sweet dreams,”_ Allen added, with a more solemn twist to his voice than usual.

Noise nodded at them, and then tugged her gently toward the bedroom. “Did you see Link, then?” he asked her, smiling a little. “It’s good to know they’re starting to trust us more.”

Miranda nodded, still worried about the unmistakable stab wound she’d seen on Link. Noise could tell, too, and squeezed her hand.

“Miranda?”

“Link looked hurt,” she blurted out, anxiety rising in her chest unbidden. “I mean… He didn’t look like he was in pain, but… He was bleeding.”

Noise was silent for a moment, and then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. When he straightened up, he told her,

“If there’s anything wrong,” he told her quietly, “I’m certain that Allen can help him with it.” Noise smiled. “And if not, we can work it out soon enough, with a little luck.”

Miranda stared at him for a moment, and then smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right.” _Thank you._ “We’ll do our best, won’t we?”

“Always,” Noise said instantly, and shut the door behind them with a click.

She wondered if she’d be able to live with Noise for a hundred years, with no one else staying around, only coming and going and never noticing them.

Then she looked at him, smiled, and thought to herself, _Of course._


End file.
